


Upside Down

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Anal Sex, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masochism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Surrealism, Unhealthy Obsessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 05:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17318591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Mitsuhide is more than happy to accommodate his Lord's demands, no matter how sudden or spontaneous.





	Upside Down

No sooner than Mitsuhide had turned the corner, still covered in dried blood from the earlier skirmish that he had encountered on his return, was he grabbed roughly by his hair and dragged sideways into one of the adjoining rooms – had he been less _exhausted,_ he might have realized who had done so a little sooner. Nevertheless, here he was, night long having reigned, with Lord Nobunaga gripping his hair mercilessly and staring _into_ him with those merciless eyes.

“Nobunaga-kou – “

He was thrown harshly onto the ground and shivered, trying to suppress his smile of delight – of course, this was exquisite, but he certainly did not want to displease his Lord so shortly after a successful battle. Mitsuhide, his head still swimming, only had time to straggle to his knees before he was wrenched up once again and then hurtled onto the mattress as if he was nothing, nothing at all. He looked to his Lord, but received not a single word in response, only a low grunt of what could have been fury or pleasure or _anything_ before Nobunaga climbed over him and tore the armor plating from his torso. 

_Oh._ So it was going to be like this.

In any case, he’d happily oblige, and with renewed energy Mitsuhide undid what few ties of his clothing that hadn’t been shredded, hands shaking with anticipation. He didn’t care that he was absolutely filthy, that the blood on his arms had long since dried, or that he was utterly exhausted – right now his Lord had a purpose for him and Mitsuhide, ever faithful, would do whatever it took to fulfill it. Nobunaga wasted absolutely no time in grabbing Mitsuhide by the hips and yanking him harshly forwards, so much so that the sheets beneath him almost burned against his skin. His legs were pulled upwards and against Nobunaga’s waist, and taking the cue, Mitsuhide held on the best he could, most of his weight resting between his shoulder-blades. It was precarious and rushed at best and it would be rather painful for him at the worst, but he embraced that possibility wholeheartedly, oh, he did. 

No words. Cloth ripped and torn and yanked aside like lives depended on it and one harsh thrust that made Mitsuhide shriek in exquisite agony perfect perfect this was perfect, he couldn’t have hoped for a better acknowledgement of his return claws metal claws in the skin of his thighs, breaking and bleeding and he wanted it all. Destroy me. Every thrust of his Lord’s hips burned and he tensed the muscles of his trembling legs, trying to hold on tighter, make it last longer and hurt more hurt better, yes please anything! The air was thick with the sharp scent of his own blood, heady with how rushed it all was, and it was paradise he’d treasure those little cuts on his thighs for days to come, if only they’d last as long as possible he wanted to _remember_ Nobunaga-kou using him like this, limp and pliant as he fucked Mitsuhide with such unbearable intensity that he could have sworn he’d felt his teeth rattle in his skull, and then it was all over, his Lord’s hot seed trailing down his bruised inner thighs as he was dropped, ungracefully, back onto the mattress. 

“Mitsuhide.” A foot connected with his ribs and he rolled limply to the side from the force of it, his mind still spinning. His Lord was asking no demanding him to do something and he would, yes he would, anything. “Get out.”

Even that.

Only half-clothed and shaking from head to toe, Mitsuhide barely had time to find himself and stand before he was shoved out into the hallway in an unceremonious heap of limbs and a pile of his own discarded (and thoroughly damaged) clothing. He was cold and exhausted, and every muscle in his body was screaming in agony.

It was the happiest he’d ever been.


End file.
